


I'm gonna be your Vitamin C

by emmerrr



Series: Ronan and Adam navigate life [3]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, Sickfic, fluff and feelings, i felt sick and so i made adam sick to make myself feel better, i'm sorry adam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 12:59:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10697517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmerrr/pseuds/emmerrr
Summary: Adam gets a nasty case of freshers' flu. Luckily Ronan is only a phonecall away.





	I'm gonna be your Vitamin C

**Author's Note:**

> you don't necessarily have to have read the first part but it might be helpful just to get the hang of how I write adam and ronan. but obviously it's totally up to you :))
> 
> is freshers' flu a thing that exists out of the UK? I mean, I'm sure it probably is, but I don't know if they call it that or if that's like a british thing to do? but it's basically when uni or college starts and you have people from all different places bringing in their various germs that they're immune to but other people aren't and basically everyone gets sick, usually just a cold. it's the WORST.

Adam lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He had only managed handfuls of sleep, and the slowly retreating darkness implied that the time was shifting from very late into very early, and Adam could feel himself losing hours.

It was Friday, the tail-end of his first week back at college after the summer. He had just started his second year after passing his first with flying colours, and now he was a resident adviser. This meant that he not only got to stay on campus for free, but he also got a room all to himself. The responsibilities that came with being an RA — particularly in freshers' week — meant that Adam had been so busy that he’d barely had time to miss Ronan. It was a marked difference from his first few weeks the year before; Adam had been fine during the day when he had classes and things to keep his mind active, but most nights he ended up desperately homesick — _Ronansick_ — and ended up on the phone to Ronan until the early hours of the morning out in the hall so as not to disturb his roommate. Everything was always so much worse at night.

It had been a tough adjustment, but Adam had managed, and Ronan had managed, and at least this year he knew what he could expect. Adam had found during his first year that the first couple of weeks back were always the hardest, when Ronan was still so fresh in his memory and Adam’s mind would trick him into thinking Ronan would be next to him when he woke up. So becoming an RA had definitely been a good decision, especially coming back from summer when he had been with Ronan every day and night for two and a half months. Freshmen had a lot of questions and were knocking at his door near constantly — Adam was sure he hadn’t been that needy when he was a freshman — and on top of those responsibilities, he had a new course-load to navigate. It was all very go-go-go, which was how Adam liked it. The busier he was, the better.

However, busyness couldn’t protect him from germs, and Adam had been struck down with a nasty case of freshers’ flu. It was the worst possible kind, as well. Sometimes, when afflicted with a cold, there is one symptom that overrides the rest. Like a throat so sore it hurts to swallow, or a nose so completely blocked you can’t breathe, or a head-cold, where everything feels heavy and it hurts every time you move your head. Adam was currently experiencing all of these symptoms at once, and he was utterly miserable.

He rolled over onto his right side, thinking a change in position might make him more comfortable, but that put his deaf ear facing out which meant he couldn’t hear much of anything at all, and with an annoyed grunt, he rolled back again. He had been resisting checking the time for what must have been hours by now, but he finally gave in to the urge, snaking his hand out from under the covers and grabbing his phone off the bedside table. He pressed a button and squinted at the harsh light as it cut through the gloom — it made his head throb.

It was 4:17 in the morning. Adam had class at eight, which meant he’d have to be up in three hours if he wanted to get some breakfast beforehand; two and a half if he wanted to shower first, which he definitely would. Tossing and turning all night had left him sweaty and flustered.

Adam weighed up the options in his head. It was still the first week so class would be more of an introductory thing that he could catch up on. His attendance was exemplary so he knew that he wouldn’t be judged for taking a sick day, but the idea of having to grated; it wasn’t the Adam Parrish way.

But he was also running off next to no sleep, his head pounded, his nose was blocked to such a degree that he could only breathe through his mouth, and that hurt his already sore throat that felt shredded thanks to heaving coughs that felt like they were tearing him in two. The odds were good that if he showed up to class, he’d be sent straight back out again.

Adam pulled up his email app on his phone and fired off an email to his lecturers for his classes today, explaining the situation and promising to make up the missed time the following week. Now that he’d made the decision and done something about it, Adam felt a little better about the situation. It was one day, and then he had the whole weekend to recover. He’d get back on track next week. He had plenty of time.

With that taken care of, Adam turned to the matter at hand, which was trying to figure out how to get better. _What do you need, Adam?_

He needed a heavy dose of Vitamin C. He needed the throbbing in his head to disappear. He needed more than twenty minutes consecutive sleep. He _wanted_. . . he wanted Ronan. He could admit it.

He fired off a quick text.

_\- you awake?_

Ronan’s reply was quicker than Adam expected.

**\- course i’m awake. a farm doesn’t run itself, parrish.**

_\- can I call you?_

A moment later, Adam’s phone started to buzz with an incoming call; Ronan had phoned _him_. Adam picked up. “Hey.”

“Good _God_ , Parrish, you sound fucking terrible.”

“I _feel_ terrible,” Adam replied, but the hint of a smile played about his lips. It was so good to hear Ronan’s voice. It was _always_ so good to hear Ronan’s voice.

“What’s wrong?”

“Freshers’ flu.”

“Ah. The little shitheads have infected you, have they?”

“Yeah. They all come along with their out of town germs and pass them over.”

“Bastards.”

Adam laughed, which dissolved into painful, hacking coughs, after which Ronan went quiet for a long time. Adam only knew he was still there because he could hear him breathing.

“You didn’t get it last year,” Ronan said at last.

“I know. Probably because I spent most of my time on the phone with you instead of socialising with the other students.”

“Probably,” Ronan agreed. “You’re not going to class today, are you?”

“No. I already emailed my professors.”

“What about your RA shit?”

Adam shrugged; a futile gesture as Ronan couldn’t see him. “I dunno. I’ll put a note on the door or something, tell them to leave me alone.”

“Will that work?”

“Doubtful. But whatever, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, Parrish. You’re sick.”

“I’m aware, Lynch.”

“Yeah, okay,” Ronan sighed. “I’m just saying. I — I worry about you, Adam.”

Adam swallowed the lump in his throat. It was so much harder at night. It was so much harder when he was ill. “I know,” he said.

Ronan swore, clearly frustrated. “Feel a bit useless over here. Do you have everything you need? Orange juice, painkillers, tissues, whatever the fuck?”

“Yeah,” Adam said. “Yeah, it’s just—” he hesitated. He wanted to ask. It felt selfish to ask, but Adam was sick, and he wanted Ronan, and he was allowed to at least _ask_.

“It’s just what, Parrish?”

“It’s — can you come? I mean, you don’t have to come. It’s a long way and I know you have shit to do. . . but can you?” Adam felt like he was going to cry. He hated the misery that came from an all-consuming cold.

“Shit,” Ronan breathed out. “Yeah, Adam. I can. Give me. . . however long, I’m not sure. But I’ll get there, okay?”

Adam sniffed. He could breathe again. “Okay.”

 

 

***

 

 

Adam awoke, groggy, to the sound of incessant knocking on his door. He had no idea how long he had been asleep, and if possible, he felt worse than he had before. The knocking stopped for a few seconds, then started up again. Adam grumbled his best approximation of “ _Fuck off_ ,” in the general direction of the door, to no avail, so he hoisted himself noisily out of bed.

He was already wearing sweats, and pulled on a hoodie of Ronan’s that he had pilfered from the Barns, then opened the door. “ _What_?” he asked snuffily. The freshman outside his door took a step back, eyes widening. Adam must have looked a right state.

“Um. . . I had a question. . . about the laundry room. . .”

Adam ran a hand down his face; this had all been covered in freshman orientation. “Are you kidding me?”

“Um,” the boy said nervously.

A bang from down the hallway alerted Adam’s attention, and he looked around to see none other than Ronan Lynch stepping in from the stairwell, a duffel bag over his shoulder. Adam stared, dazed. Ronan, here. What was Ronan doing _here_?

And then he remembered, vaguely, a very early morning phonecall. Adam had asked Ronan to come, and here he was. He smiled. “Ronan,” he said in awe.

Ronan smiled back, but his eyes were all concern. “Parrish,” he said, then looked at the freshman who was still standing in the hallway. He made a shooing gesture. “Run along now, Adam’s off-duty until at least Monday.”

“Um. Okay,” said the boy, and scarpered down the corridor. Once he’d gone, Ronan gently took Adam’s hand and pulled him back into the privacy of Adam’s room, shutting the door behind them. He pressed the back of his hand to Adam’s forehead, then his cheek. His touch was cool and soothing.

“You’re here,” Adam said hoarsely. Ronan pressed a kiss to Adam’s temple, then wrapped his arms around him.

“I’m here.” He pulled back, eyes narrowed. “You’re burning up, Adam. Have you had anything to eat? Drink?”

Adam shook his head. Ronan sat him back down in his bed, then opened his duffel and started rifling through it. “Where’s Opal?” Adam asked.

“I took her to Fox Way. I would have brought her, but I don’t know if she can get sick and I didn’t want to risk it. Besides, she behaves better for Maura and Calla than she ever does for me,” he said scornfully.

“What about you?”

“What _about_ me?”

“What if you get sick?”

“I won’t. And also, I don’t care.” He evidently found what he was looking for and pulled out a little box that was clearly a care package. In it were various cold and flu remedies, bottles of orange juice and water, tissues, and a thermos full of what Adam was hoping would be soup or something. Ronan had thought to bring treats; chocolates and cookies and donuts that wouldn’t make Adam feel better but that were appreciated all the same. There was also a tin of tea-bags so pungent Adam could even smell them through his bunged up nose.

Ronan gave him a knowing look. “Those are from Maura. She says they’ll help, but, y’know. I’m dubious.”

Adam smiled. “That was really nice of her.” He laid back down and beckoned Ronan over. He meant for him to get into bed, but Ronan sat down on the floor in front of him instead, resting his arms on the mattress.

“Have you had any sleep?”

“Yeah, actually. I woke up when that kid started knocking. I think I must have fallen asleep right after I spoke to you.”

Ronan nodded. “That’s a good eight hours plus then.”

Adam sighed, suddenly guilty. “I can’t believe I made you drive all this way just because I have a cold.”

“Hey,” Ronan said, cupping Adam’s cheek. “It’s fine. I only would have been driving myself crazy at home anyway, knowing you were sick.”

“Still,” Adam shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Ronan shook his head. “Jesus, Parrish, you scared the shit out of me.”

“What?” Adam struggled to sit up but Ronan gently pushed him back down. “How?”

“Because you asked me to come. Even last year when. . . when missing each other got really bad, you never once asked me to come at a time I wasn’t already supposed to, and then this morning—” Ronan broke off, shaking his head again. “I just figured that you’d have to be feeling really awful to actually ask me to come. I was worried I might have to take you to the hospital or something.”

“No,” Adam murmured. “Just a cold. A bad one, but not hospital worthy. I didn’t mean to waste your time.”

“No, Adam, that’s not what I mean,” Ronan said, frustrated. “I’m glad you’re, you know, not dying and everything, but I’m also glad you asked me to come. I’m glad that you felt you _could_ ask. Do you know what I mean? You can always ask.”

“I know that,” Adam said quietly.

“Do you?” Adam nodded, and Ronan took his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “I can be wherever you need me to be.”

Adam sighed and smiled. He felt so settled inside. “Well, seeing as you’ve come all this way,” he said, “do you think you can make me some of Maura’s gross tea? I think it’ll help clear my sinuses.”

Ronan grinned. “Your funeral, Parrish.”

**Author's Note:**

> *title from Vitamin C by Clean Cut Kid
> 
> when I was in my second year of uni, I caught a nasty cold just like the one adam has in this fic. it was the middle of winter, in wales, and at the time I lived in this shitty shared house that was cold and damp, and the central heating didn't work, and I have never been so miserable. it feels silly because it's just a cold and you know it's not gonna kill you, but when your head's killing you and you can't breathe through your nose and you're cold and uncomfortable, it's like you forget what it ever felt like to be healthy. and I can remember just really, really wanting my mum who wasn't even in the country at the time and couldn't have helped me anyway. the impossibility of her in that moment just made me even more miserable because I was convinced that she was the only one who could make me feel better but she had no way of doing so. that's how I imagined adam feeling at the beginning of this fic (except wanting ronan instead of my mum haha).
> 
> ANYWAY I feel like this ended abruptly but I had no idea where I was gonna go from there. please excuse me I've been awake since 3.30am. I finished my re-read of TRC the other day and I'm in SUCH a pynch mood so there'll probably be more of these soonish.
> 
> this author's note is way longer than this tiny fic warrants so I'm gonna go now haha. (comments and kudos are always appreciated <3 )


End file.
